The Lottery

On Sunday evening, we picked up copies of the first 20 of the 56 case files on which we would be working this week and got to work.  We broke into five teams, each of which consisted of an American lawyer, Ugandan lawyer, two Pepperdine students, and a Ugandan law student.  Here are the American members of each team:

Professor Carol Chase, Johnny Kristofferson, Nicole Bannister

Judge John Doyle, Nora Lopopolo, Aaron Murphy (prospective law student we adopted)

Sophia Hamilton, Katie Coy, Stephen White

Jessie Johnston, John Niemeyer, Ope Peters

David Nary/Jim Gash, Meredith Doyle, Ana Carinena (David and I are subbing in and out on a team because of our other logistical duties)

David divided the files such that each American law student had two files to summarize before the interviews commenced on Monday morning.  It was a late night.

In the morning, David, Professor Chase, Judge Doyle, and I met with the prosecution, defense lawyers, and judge to map out the week.  All went well with that meeting.  Next, the entire group, including both the American and Ugandan law students, gathered in a courtroom for a plea bargaining mini seminar presented by Professor Chase and Judge Doyle.

Judge Doyle and Professor Chase Training the Ugandan Lawyers

Plea bargaining is somewhat of a foreign concept to Ugandan lawyers, which is why their prisons are spilling over with detainees awaiting trial.  It is also why the lawyers with whom we are working (for both the prosecution and defense) are reflexively resistant to this method of alternative dispute resolution.  We are, however, working through the challenges and they are participating in the process.

After a quick lunch, we loaded up into four vehicles and left the paved road in favor of the winding, bumpy, dusty road out to Katojo prison.  This detention facility currently houses 874 prisoners, 320 of which are on remand.  Those on remand have been arrested and charged, but are awaiting trial.

David went in first to meet with the warden to ensure all was well.  While we came with the necessary paperwork, and while David and I personally met with the warden to arrange everything in March, we were still a bit anxious because things don’t always (often?) go according to plan in Uganda.  Ten minutes later, David emerged and gave us a “thumbs up.”

As we all passed through the two sets of security entrances, the guards corralled the prisoners into the courtyard, where they all sat submissively.  The warden brought David and me through the third security gate to address the prisoners.  When we realized the others were being kept behind, we talked the guards into allowing at least the Ugandan lawyers to accompany us, since they were the ones who would ultimately be representing the prisoners.

The warden belted out a brief introduction in the local language.  I, then, had the opportunity to address the crowd, while one of the prisoners interpreted.  I explained who we were, why we were here, and what would be happening this week.  I made clear that the Ugandan lawyers with us were their lawyers, and we were here to assist them.  David followed up with his greetings and an explanation that we would be working directly on 56 cases involving 70 prisoners.  They clapped excitedly every time we mentioned anything related to going to court to move their cases forward.

David Addressing the Prisoners

Next came what appeared to them to be The Lottery.  Not the Shirley Jackson kind.  Not the Hunger Games kind.  But the kind where you have a chance for freedom if your name is called.

In actuality, random chance played no part in the selection of the 56 cases.  Over the past several years, the court has held multiple “Plea of Guilty” sessions whereby any of the prisoners on remand who wanted to admit to their crimes and accept whatever punishment was doled out to them were allowed to jump the queue and have their cases disposed of en masse.  This left behind both those who insisted upon their innocence and those who did not believe the prosecution could prove a case against them.  (In other words, only the tough cases remained, so we have our work cut out for us in trying to assist in reaching plea deals).  Of these 320 remaining cases, we selected the oldest group for this pilot program.

The warden announced he would be calling out the first 20 for their interviews.  Instant silence.  Even the chattering birds stopped to listen, to see who would finally have a chance to tell his story to a lawyer representing him.  (This block of the prison contains only men, though two of the cases actually involve women housed nearby).

As a name was called, the prisoner would indicate his presence.  Some sprang to their feet and waved excitedly, and some called out in disbelief that their time had finally come.  Two of them, after signaling, put their faces into their hands as the emotion poured out.  I won’t soon forget this moment.

The disappointment among the unchosen was palpable after the last name was read.  More tomorrow, we assured them, though this intense week of preparation will only reduce the backlog in this prison by about 22%.  We have to keep reminding ourselves that our aim is to assist in a long-term change to the structure, but it is still difficult to see so many left behind in the short term.

Niemeyer photographed each of the twenty “winners” just before we broke into five groups scattered throughout the prison facility.

Over the next several hours, we collectively got through 14 cases, with Professor “High Speed” Chase’s group taking the prize for efficiency, completing 4 in the time my group finished two.  Time and confidentiality do not permit a recitation of the cases, but one case bears particular note.  In Judge Doyle’s group, one of the prisoners was 17 years old, and was 15 when the crime he was charged with committing occurred.  This isn’t just his word – the medical examination in the file confirms he was 15 at the time of the alleged crime.  The minimum age for this maximum security prison is 18.  Likewise, the maximum sentence for this boy is 3 years under Uganda’s Children Act, and he has already served 2 ½ years.  We will be actively working to get him transferred to the Fort Portal Remand Home, and then before a judge.  He should be going home pretty soon.

While we were at the prison interviewing prisoners, Nootbaar Institute manager Dana Zacharia was busy along with John and Carol’s son, Harrison, photocopying the rest of the files and flawlessly executing all of the logistical components of this massive effort.  The “herding (and feeding) cats” metaphor comes to mind.

Back at the hotel, we ate together and got started reviewing the next day’s cases.  The students are getting some fantastic legal experience and are rising to the challenge brilliantly.

More after Tuesday’s events.